


Welcome to the Circle

by TerinAngel



Series: Love Game [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Non-Canon Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-28
Updated: 2013-05-28
Packaged: 2017-12-13 05:19:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/820465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerinAngel/pseuds/TerinAngel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Recent events and his own natural talents place Mage Apprentice Daniel Amell in the unique position of being required to have a Templar escort at all times. ALL times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Welcome to the Circle

**Author's Note:**

> The official "start" point of my head-cannon of my Male Amell, Daniel, and Cullen. This is set about two years before the beginning of DA:O. For anyone wondering, Daniel is 16, and I imagine Cullen would be about 18. (I couldn't find an official age, soooooo... ^^') 
> 
> In short, this is my way of getting around the fact that you can't flirt with Cullen as a guy on the Xbox XD

“So, what did you think of him?”

Gregor took the time to rack his armor as he waited for Irving’s answer, and while he was unsurprised that the steady scratch of a quill did not cease, it irritated him to no end anyways. It was rather sad exactly how much enjoyment he and Irving got out of doing things like this to each other. But he was serious this time, so he did not press, and by the time he had summoned a Tranquil to ensure his armor was properly taken care of, Irving finally seemed to realize this. The quill was set aside, the ink well capped, and the First Enchanter had a look on his face that reminded Gregor that they were almost due for their quarterly sparring session. He almost called the Tranquil with his armor back.

Then Irving sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, and Gregor took that as a sign that it was safe to finally take a seat. “I truly wish this were not necessary,” the First Enchanter finally stated tiredly. Gregor rolled his eyes, briefly begging the Maker for patience. “I know that, Irving. And believe me, I dislike reducing my Templars to nanny’s more than they already are almost as much as you dislike the fact that I must. But we both know bloody well that it must in fact be done, lest we both receive a heavy reprimand from Val Royeaux, and your apprentice receive a Tranquility Brand to the forehead!”

They glared each other down for several moments, and this time it was Gregor who gave into the urge to rub away the impending headache first. “We can only make the best of it now. Many of the Templars already in the Circle have developed a bias against Daniel, and he against them. This was the best option.” He glanced up, expecting Irving to still be troubled, and instead found the First Enchanter looking down right amuse. “What?”

“Nothing,” Irving chuckled, the glint in his eyes saying otherwise. “I’m simply flattered that you sill wish to hear my opinion, despite it holding no real weight. I know,” he held up a hand to stop Gregor’s interruption, mirth glinting in his eyes, “the goings on of the Templars in the Circle are your jurisdiction. You are Knight-Commander – you do as you please.” Gregor wanted to Smite the man silly. Definitely time for the quarterly spar.

Irving leaned back in his chair, all at once very serious. “Given the circumstances, I suppose I do approve. Ser Cullen appears to be an outstanding and upstanding Templar, and of complementing temperament to Daniel. That they are both so close in age is a welcome bonus – I suppose I won’t ruin the mystery by demanding to know how exactly you managed to get such a young, promising Templar out of the Denerim Chantry’s grasp.” Gregor couldn’t resist a rather devious smirk, which earned him an amused snort from Irving. The First Enchanter then reached into a particular drawer in his desk, pulling out a bottle of amber liquid and two glasses. “I suppose this is what we get for setting records, hmm?”

“Indeed,” Gregor replied dryly, accepting his glass and touching it briefly to Irving’s. “Though as I recall, the record was all your doing. You simply dragged me down into the madness with you.” He took a sip, and his eyebrows shot up. “And where, pray tell, did you get this? I have to bend over backwards to get this quality!”

He watched as Irving smirked with as much deviousness as he had earlier. “ ‘Tis a long, rather sordid tale, Knight-Commander.” Irving swirled the alcohol in his glass for effect. “You will simply have to trust me when I say that there are some goings on in the Tower that are better off behind closed doors.” He took his own sip of the amber liquid, and then raised his glass again. “May the Maker grant success to our endeavor.” Gregor chuckled, tapping their glasses together. 

“Or at least mercy, once your apprentice leaves solitary and finds out what we’ve done.”


End file.
